Life, 1918-05-16 · page 7 of 40
Life — May 16, 1918 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **"Sword and Horn"** (left): A poem by Arthur Guiterman dedicated to George Creel, depicting King Arthur's knights waiting in a cave for a magical call to action. The imagery of dormant warriors and a horn-blast likely references World War I mobilization efforts—Creel headed the U.S. Committee on Public Information during WWI, so the poem appears to be patriotic verse about rallying the nation. **"No Inducement"** (right): A cartoon satirizing wartime clothing rationing or price inflation. A tailor pressures a customer to buy a suit now, claiming it will cost "half again as much in six months." The customer resists, saying he'll simply stop buying clothes. The joke mocks both inflation and consumer resistance during economic constraints—likely WWI-era scarcity.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ating the Sword and Horn (Dedicated to George Creel) HERE shattered crags are tumbled heap on heap, Within a cave, King Arthur lies asleep Among his knights who wait, with steel on side, The call that yet shall bid them mount and ride. And where those knights in iron slumber ring A nation’s hope, the golden-bearded king, There hangs a horn, long centuries unbreathed ; There hangs a sword in leathern scabbard sheathed. A shepherd once, among the hills astray, To that weird cavern found the secret way. He stared upon the great king, helmed and crowned, The armored paladins in slumber bound, The stalwart earls in silk and miniver, The ready steeds awaiting but the spur; He saw the sword and horn;—for woe or weal The horn he seized, and blew a mighty peal! The cavern rang. The great king half awoke, And scornfully in rumbling thunder spoke: “Woe, woe to thee that ever thou wert born, That, ere thou drewest sword, didst blow the horn!” A wild wind whirled the shepherd from the glen; The great king bowed his head in sleep again. . . * . Forgive to us our waverings, fecble-willed, Our waste, our sloth, our pledges unfulfilled, Our empty vauntings!—Oh, forgive us, Lord, That blew the horn before we drew the sword! arthur Guiterman, ten No Inducement 'AILOR: Better order this suit now, sir; it will increase in price half again as much in six months. Bitter: But I am gradually accustoming myself not to wear clothes at all, and in six months more I won't need any. ‘THE UKRAINE “ And when the egg was opened the bird began to sing” comicbooks.com